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a child.

“Guess I’ll just take your word for it.”

He yawns before speaking, which makes me yawn. “Relax. The best part is, no Vin.”

The very idea of that has me feeling lighter. “Thank God for small favors.”

“I’d consider that a big favor,” West counters.

He isn’t wrong.

The line goes quiet again and I imagine he’s deep in thought like I am, maybe going over all the B.S. we won’t miss while we’re away from this place.

“Fuck it,” West seems to say to himself, which makes me snort a laugh. “I’m just gonna say it, and if I scare you, just forget I brought it up, but I think we should make a pact.”

“You had my attention at ‘fuck it’,” I tease.

“It’s no secret that we’ve both got shit parents,” he begins. “With the exception of my mom, I guess. Maybe. Anyway, I think I came up with a plan. Way, way in the future, we should agree to have a shitload of kids and just be the best fucking parents ever.”

I’m laughing again, and also a little shocked. One, because he’s planning so far ahead for us. And two, because this is the first time he’s ever mentioned wanting a family in the future. I guess I just didn’t realize he made plans beyond college and football.

“I like that idea,” I answer, feeling my cheeks warm at the thought of it—us spending our lives together, parenting together. “But what exactly do you mean by a ‘shitload’? Because, as the one who’d have to push out this shitload, I’m a bit concerned.”

“Don’t be,” he reasons. “Seven or eight should do it.”

I cough out a laugh before remembering Scar’s asleep down the hall. “No way, buddy. Three’s the limit.”

“Four,” he counters.

My smile broadens. “If you promise to wait on me hand and foot through it all, you have yourself a deal.”

He doesn’t even pause to think about it. “That’s easy. Deal.”

My heart flutters just imagining it, being with him forever, having a family together. For half a second, it makes me sad because I’m still seeing our circumstances as an obstacle we might not overcome. But then, this dream of a future gives me something I don’t expect.

Something more to fight for.

“I love you, West Golden.” I say it simply because it feels like I’ll explode if I don’t.

“I know,” he counters, “but nowhere near as much as I love you.”

Staring at the ceiling, I’m still fantasizing about this picture he’s painted in my head when he speaks again.

“Just as a heads up, when we get to my grandfather’s place, I plan to tell him everything,” West admits.

I’m admittedly curious why he’s decided this.

“You really think that’ll make a difference?” I ask.

“Well, there’s no way of knowing for sure, but he’s pretty well connected, and he hates Vin. So, at the very least, he’ll be motivated to help if he can. I just think it wouldn’t hurt bringing him up to speed, then hearing his perspective.”

I’m quiet, but only because I’m thinking. “Okay. If you think that’s best.”

“I do. The worst thing that could happen is he doesn’t know anything more than we do.”

“I trust your judgment,” I say, yawning into the receiver.

“You should get some sleep. We have to be at the airport in five hours,” West reminds me.

I glance at the time. It’s already two. “Yeah, I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“We’re gonna grab Joss first since she’s closer, then we’ll be at your place around six. Sound okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, we’ll be ready.”

Damn, I’ve got butterflies just thinking about leaving so soon.

“Didn’t you set the alarm?” he asks.

Laughing, I roll my eyes. “Yes, Dad, I set it.”

“Mmm… you sure about that? Because I’m looking at the app right now and it says otherwise.” He’s being cynical and it makes me want to punch him. Gently, of course.

I pull the phone away from my ear and put it on speaker to check for myself. Sure enough, it says it’s disarmed, but I know I set it.

“Looks like it turned off about ten minutes ago,” he adds, sounding slightly on edge now. “Does anyone else have the code?”

“No. Just me and Scar.”

“I’m on my way,” he rushes to say, sounding like he’s already out of bed and changing clothes.

My chest feels tight and every breath I take comes and goes just a little too quickly. Without hesitating, I’m on my feet and headed toward the closet. It’s where the gun is stashed, but I never thought I’d actually have to touch the thing again. It was just for peace of mind, but apparently that assumption was wrong.

With shaky hands, I lower the box. Despite this being the last thing in the world I want to do right now, it’s what I have to do. I have it loaded quickly—thanks to Mike’s instructions—then I move toward my bedroom door.

“Stay put until I get there,” West urges, but that’s not even an option.

“I can’t. I have to at least get to Scar,” I whisper, feeling dizzy from how quickly blood rushes through my veins.

“Fine,” he huffs, brimming with frustration and fear. “Go, then lock yourself in her room. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

The next thing I hear is his engine revving in the background, then tires screeching over pavement.

I turn the doorknob and peer out into the darkness. I hear nothing, but that doesn’t settle my nerves. The only reason I’m even able to put one foot in front of the other to leave my bedroom is because I need to get to my sister.

My steps are feather light as I make my way to her door, and the moment I reach it, I turn the knob and rush to her bed. My plan is to quietly wake her, but when I feel my way through the dark space and attempt to shake her shoulder, my hands sink into an empty mattress.

“She’s gone,” I say into the phone, feeling air rush in and out as I pant.

“What?”

“She’s not here, West!”

Gripping my

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